


The Only Way You Can Know

by KaliTracer



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies), Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011), Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Kind of a background plot with the movie overlapping, M/M, Movie Spoilers, Past established Relationship, Rogue Nation Spoilers, Slightly AU-ish, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:05:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliTracer/pseuds/KaliTracer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those six months had been a fog of pain and loneliness that Benji never wanted to have go through again. He knows he is a changed man, not able to look at Will anymore. But things haven't been what they've seen for a long time, he just hasn't known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you are asking since when do I write Mission Impossible fic, the answer is very simple. I don't. This is a figment of your illusion. And mine. But mostly yours.

The house seems smaller after IMF is reinstated. Benji hasn’t seen it for a while, and he cannot quite say why the house appears almost tiny from what it was. It’s been a rough time since he was here last, the brief time he grabbed two duffel bags before running off again. IMF failing had just been the tip of the very steep spiral down. A bad day would have stopped there, with his life’s work being dismantled and consumed by the Central Intelligence Agency. But then something happened that he hadn’t expected. 

One minute he was rushing home, determined to see William after the hearing, wanting to see the love of his life for a moment so they could figure out what to do. Benji had come into the house at a run, dropping his bag at the first step.

The panic about the hearing has spread like…well, wildfire. In fact, Benji had seen someone lighting a small fire in a wastebasket with probably classified documents. It was like the end of the world and he could only think of one person who would make it better.

But it hadn’t gone like that. Will had been packing when he arrived. Suits half rumpled on the bed, socks rolled up in the bag. He was partly in the closet, digging around and cursing.

It had taken a moment, Benji had been confused, they weren’t scheduled for a vacation until next month and the whole scene reminded him of the fire and the wastebasket. The panic and desperation of the people in the IMF, that he just hadn’t put it together for a few moments.

“You’re leaving? I mean, what-leaving?” He had wandered around the bed, their bed. The one it had taken two months and four spreadsheets for them to buy. Will had wanted something with a lifetime warranty and Benji had hated that none of them were long enough to keep their feet from going over the end. It had been the hardest purchase of his life, but it had been worth it. Oh god, that first night on it.

But this wasn’t as nice as that. When he got out of the closet, Will looks distraught, angry and scared. It’s the first time he’s seen him like this in a long time when there wasn’t a bomb in the immediate area. 

The ensuing conversation was short. Benji wasn’t actually sure what was said. There was words about things ending, and the natural course and then something about new beginnings and better opportunities. Benji nodded along, his brain fuzzed over until there was nothing but the haze of pain and disbelief.

When he was alone again, realizing that he was in the house under Brandt’s last alias, he packed up what he needed and left.

Six months later and Ethan woke him from that haze. The tickets, the ensuing near death scenarios that came in near overwhelming wave after near overwhelming wave cracked the haze and for the first time Benji felt like a person again. Of course, he had to yell at Ethan to do it, but it was something not unlike an awakening.

Now IMF is back and Benji is standing in front of the house. He has half a thought that if he wanders into the house he’ll find the bedroom once again in that state of disarray and Will half-buried in the closet muttering to himself.

He isn’t though. The house’s silence descends upon him when he opens the door. It’s odd that the lock haven’t been changed, but then again he does know that Will has been busy inside the CIA, kissing arse and stopping in on his weekly polygraphs.

There is a fine layer of dust over the entranceway table. Benji can’t help the temptation and runs a finger through the dust and brushing it off between his fingers so the dust floats to the floor. He can tell no one has disturbed things in a long time, which also isn’t right because Will always had a housekeeper that he trusted to come clean things when they were away. And honestly finding a housekeeper was an even longer process than the mattress.

Benji wanders around, pulling out the last of his clothes and books and tech. He makes piles in obvious places so he won’t forget anything. The day slips into late afternoon and he’s moved most of his stuff in his car. What’s left is in the bedroom-a box of books, another bag of clothes and assorted odds and ends that have gotten shoved in a reusable grocery bag for sheer lack of anything other sort of container. He’s trying to not think about the birthday gift that is wrapped in the bag or the very expensive watch it contains because Will’s birthday has passed. Benji had spent it getting completely smashed in his flat and absolutely not thinking about the year prior when Will had rolled them around on the bed and moaned how badly he wanted Benji for his birthday.

Maybe because he’s been on the run with Ethan so long, but Will doesn’t even have to clear his throat for Benji to be spinning around-arms up to defend himself. Up close, Will looks much more haggard than Benji can recall. He’s shaved off the mustache and small beard. Benji does not think about how he used to beg Will to leave the scruff so he could feel the tickle of hairs on his skin.

“Hey,” Will says, all weak smiles and bright eyes. Benji feels the long denied anger resurface and he bites his lip to keep it together.

“I was just getting the last of my things,” he says, trying to look around the room again. Tries desperately to remember what else he needed to grab. He can’t see anything, it all looks so strange-dust covering the surfaces except for the random places where objects were removed to leave odd geometric shapes imprinted. Was this ever his home?

“Yeah, I saw your Jeep. I was surprised to see that you had so much stuff left,” Will says, smiling again.

It bristles against his nerves to think that yeah, it has been a long time and why hadn’t he come back for his stuff. Confronted Will like he knew he wanted to.

“I’m getting it now,” he bites. Will looks chastised and the smile falls away.

“Benji, I know that it has been a long time since that day here, but I owe you an explanation for th-“

He cuts off the lead in with a raised hand. His heart beats frantic in his chest and Benji hates himself for not being able to control it this time-when he needs it more than ever.

“I don’t want to hear your explanation, Will,” he says. “I get it.”

Will shakes his head, eyes hopeful and wide. They hurt so much to see.

“But you don’t. I know you think you did, but I was trying to keep you safe.”

That doesn’t bristle. That full on sucker punches him. He shakes his head and scoffs.

“Safe? _Safe?_ You call breaking my heart and leaving me to work in that hell-hole _keeping me safe_?” Benji doesn’t know why he keeps coming back to this room if he is only going to suffer for it.

“And where do you think you would have been safer? With Ethan? You nearly died twice in his care and that was before driving that car like a maniac. Not to mention the kidnapping and the _bomb_ that was strapped to your chest. That-was that safe for you?” Will has obviously lost his smile and bright eyes. Instead now, Benji sees the agent that has walked into a room and killed everyone in it because they were holding a little girl hostage. After the last two weeks he’s had Benji isn’t feeling like bowing to anyone else. So he lets his anger talk for him.

“Ethan saved me and I saved him. _He_ has my back.”

“Hunt is reckless. You put too much faith in him,” Will says.

“He has faith in me! What do you have, Will?” He regrets the words almost immediately. Benji hates this. He knows that Will has done nothing but keep him as a field agent, making sure it’s what Benji wants and then supporting and helping tone him into an agent that others had IMF had been forced to respect.

“You think I don’t have faith in you?” The words are quiet, Benji hadn’t realized how loud they had been until Will whispers those words.

“You left me.” Benji can’t reign the anger back. It’s free to do all the damage it can. “You walked away from me when IMF fell. One minute we’re here planning our lives together the next I’m walking down the hall in the CIA with you pretending that we barely know each other. Isn’t that what you told Hunley? That we were just colleagues?” 

Will’s eyes glisten now, tears at the corners and Benji doesn’t want to see tears. He might break if he sees them.

“I’m sorry, Benji. God, you have to know how sorry I am.”

The hurt and pain and anger and the lonely nights wondering if Will had found someone knew spoke back.

“Sorry isn’t good enough.”

With that, Benji picks up his bag of clothes, ignores the box of books and grabs up the grocery bag with knickknacks and high-tails it out of the house. He slams the door as he leaves, not yet done feeling vindictive. This isn’t him, he knows it logically as he shoves the last two bags in the passenger seat, not caring when things crack loudly in the bag or when he tumbles into the floor, stuff going everywhere. 

It doesn’t matter he tells himself. It didn’t matter to Will so this won’t matter to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Pulling up at Ethan’s house is probably a sign of desperation, stupidity or cowardice. Maybe even all three.

Benji grabs clothes and his bag from the road that still has his toothbrush and assorted other things that he needs to live for a night. When he rings the doorbell he wonders if he should have called, if a hotel would have been smarter, or if he should have manned up and gone to stay with Jane. Absolutely there is no chance in hell he is going back to his flat and its blank walls and lack of food.

The door pulls open before he has a chance to debate it further and Ethan is already smiles and lifts a beer in greeting.

“Benji, what’s going on?” Because he’s Ethan, Benji knows that he has pieced it together, probably when Benji was pulling things from his Jeep.

“Hey, I, uh. I need a place to crash.”

Ethan’s eyes narrow and frowns. “Brandt troubles still?”

He nods, definitely not wanting to get into it with Ethan of all people. There had been a moment, when they had been on the run where he had started  babbling had spilled part of the story in a fit of boredom and a lack of control over his mouth. Ethan had taken it in stride and moved the topic onto Morocco. 

Hunt makes some noise of contemplation and opens the door wider.

“Come on inside. I’ve got something for you to see.”

Relieved, Benji enters and mutters, “I hope it’s a pizza.”

-

It isn’t a pizza. In fact, it’s a computer. A laptop to be precise, on Ethan’s dining room table. The one that had been with Ethan most of the time he had been on the run.

“Why are you showing me a laptop? I’ve seen laptops, Ethan. Please, all I want is to eat and catch a bloody nap.”

“Trust me, Benji. You want to see what’s on this laptop.” Ethan pulls the computer toward him for a moment then pushes it back and there is a video pulled up and when Benji focuses on it, Ethan pushes the spacebar once and it comes to life.

It’s a loft, the kind that they always manage to find in short notice even though it is a fantastic place and Benji really wants to buy one. Will walks into view, hands on his hips, as he glances out a window. Benji can only see the side of him, but he thinks that it must be after he was kidnapped because he doesn’t recognize the loft.

“Brandt, I can’t see another way to do this,” Ethan says suddenly on the computer but he isn’t in the shot.

Will shakes his head, and scoffs.

“You know what? I can’t either,” he admits. Will rubs a hand over his face, turning to grab a bag when Ethan speaks up again.

“We’ll get him back, Will,” Ethan says. This seems to be the wrong thing by the way Will freezes, hand not to the bag yet.

“Screw you, Ethan. Don’t patronize me. Don’t you fucking dare.” Will’s eyes are shining even in the low quality video. Benji sees the way his hands are shaking when he jabs a finger at Ethan, who is presumably on the other side of the filming device.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I know right now you’re hurting, Brandt. I’m just trying-“

“You don’t know anything about it, Ethan. You have no idea what I’ve had to do to keep this fucking mission afloat. I had a _minute_ to make a decision after that hearing and your phone call. _I_ had to choose, Ethan. You made me choose between you, the whole goddamn world, and Benji. This is on _you._ That-that…No,” he shakes his head. Will shudders, covering his face with a hand as he visibly pulls himself together.

“That’s on me. I made the decision, because I couldn’t see another way. I knew what Hunley would do. I was under surveillance twenty-four seven. There were bugs in my apartment, I had a man following me wherever I went, _and_ Benji still had weekly polygraphs, where he had to lie, for you. I knew that when the time came that you would need back-up. It couldn’t be me. I couldn’t give that. Luther was my next choice, and he fucking left. Jane called me a traitor. Do you want to hear the list? I couldn’t get anyone to stay at the CIA. But Benji would. I knew he would, but only if he didn’t have me.” Will is actively crying now, he has taken steps closer to the camera and Benji can see every tear much better. 

“That was the only option I could see, Ethan. If I stayed with Benji he would ask me to leave, and I couldn’t leave until you came in. I couldn’t leave you stranded, not if the Syndicate was real. Not if they really did have eyes everywhere…” he frowns. “Not if it would leave the world in danger. But I would have. I would have left it all to burn if Benji had asked. So I made sure he never got the chance and you would get your support.”

“I couldn’t ask him to stay and go through what he would if Hunley found out about us. The CIA would have driven us apart, they would have pressured him and used me as leverage and done anything to get to you. I spare him that. I kept him safe from them. I did that. And you’ve given him to Lane.”

Will shakes his head. He glances to the side and frowns. 

“You questioned my loyalty before, Luther. You wanted to know what side I was on. Well you’re right, I didn’t come here because I’m on Ethan’s side. I’m here because the day this all went to shit I was carrying an engagement ring around in my pocket. I had tickets to the first vacation Benji and I had been on in our entire relationship. I was going to marry him and I was going to spend the rest of my life making Benji happy. So don’t you ever fucking dare question my loyalty again. It’s with him, Benji Dunn. And I sacrificed my future with him to save the world. To save your friend…

“Don’t tell me you know that I’m hurting, Ethan. You prove to Benji that him being on your side isn’t completely unfounded.”

The others don’t reply and Ethan steps close, clicking the spacebar again. The video stops, frozen with Will half turned back to the bag.

There are tears in Benji’s eyes that he can’t really control and he wipes at them. All that anger vanishes in the face of this. The hurt lingers, reminding him that Will made this decision without him...that it was six months of not knowing. It swirls until he is properly confused and miserable. 

"The way I understand it, Benji, is that he didn't have a choice. He didn't abandon you because he wanted to. In fact, it sounded like he tried to keep you close and safe as best as he could manage. So you wanna share why you would leave him now?"

The short answer is that he doesn't know. That part of him wants to run back to the house, spend the night making up the time they've lost and unpacking.

The long answer is complex. Petty in a way because Will started the leaving thing and Benji is just looking out for himself. He is hurt, lonely and tired. His body has been bounced around countries and between bad guys fists. His mind has been through worst. That part of him wants to hiss and snarl at everything that tries to poke the obviously open wound that is his broken heart. He doesn't want to be an adult and talk through what will be a very long conversation. There is no guarantee they could even work through the hurt they've done to each other at this point.

"Do you've got a bed I can crash on?" Benji asks. Ethan frowns and nods his head.

"Upstairs. Third door on the left."

He stands, taking up his bags and heading off in the direction of the stairs. Ethan's words pause him.

"Whatever you decide, Benji, don't leave this too long. This kind of pain can fester in you for a long time if you let it."

Benji feels very mature for not replying that Will had been letting it fester for six months. Though he does say it in his head, so there is that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't really sure where I wanted to go with this, and I watched the movie again. And now I have an idea, it's awful, mind you, but an idea. Hope you guys like.

The moment the door to the front of the house close, Will sits down on the bed. This is what he had always been afraid of, since that fateful phone call after the hearing. His split second decision had been off the cuff, had been made because, for a moment, he had no chance to examine the options, think of alternates...all he could see was the single option for him to save the world and keep Benji safe.   
  
But it didn't involve him. It involved sucking up to Hunley, to slipping back into that persona that he had always hated, that piece of him that was so...robotic.  
  
He had shed so much of that person when he got together with Benji. They had become friends, first. Late nights, after Ethan would go be mysterious, and others on their team went off to find their enjoyments, Benji would sit around with Will. They would eat and share stories. There was so much comfort there, it's what happens when two people save the world together, Brandt had told himself.   
  
Until his gaze lingered over Benji when he would work out. Or he would find himself riled to the point of snarling at other agents, even Ethan, when Benji would come back with the smallest of bruises or cuts.   
  
IMF hadn't been the place to start a romance, they had short life expectancy. For god's sake how many time had they nearly died in the collective missions since the Kremlin.  
  
That hadn't stopped them. Every mission, every conversation, Will had found himself falling more and more in love with the man that risked his life for a country that would never know. To see that courage, Will had wanted to become a better man, be a better person. He had pushed himself, to be the support Benji needed on his missions, to be the rock that he could always return to afterwards.   
  
Now...Brandt stand and collects the box of books. He tapes it up, using the tape Benji had left in his rush, and sets it on Benji's side-table. He trails his hand over the rough cardboard edges and sighs. In the morning, he'll go to the post-office and mail it to Ethan's address. Will has no doubt that the man is keeping Benji safe tonight.   
  
Before he can force himself to gather his belongings from his car, his phone starts ringing. Will jogs down the steps to the front entrance where he left it and picks it up. Once glance at the screen has him sighing as he accepts the call.  
  
"Brandt," he answers.   
  
"I need you to report back to IMF. We've got a situation," Hunley says over the phone.   
  
"I just got into my house, what do you need me for?" Will doesn't mean to sound short with the new Secretary, but for fuck's sake, does he not realize the hell he's been through?  
  
"Someone tried to break Lane out of IMF holding fifteen minutes ago."  
  
A cold hand grabs his heart and squeezes. His brain helpfully flashes an image of Benji strapped in that bomb, one he had pulled from the security cameras outside the restaurant. Will hasn't had time to process the fear and anxiety of nearly losing Benji yet. It's still fresh, still an open wound, festering in the back of his mind. The sound of snapping makes him jump and look down. In his hand is a piece of the wooden entrance table, that his hand had broke off.   
  
"Brandt? Are you still there?" Hunley asks.   
  
"I'll be there in thirty minutes," he says, voice low.   
  
"Should I call in the others?" Hunley asks. Still new to the job, needing the guidance for how the IMF would operate. Brandt is glad to see him not relying too much on CIA protocol because they don't work the same and forcing them to would only bring disaster.   
  
"No," Brandt says, "I'll handle this myself."  
  
\--  
  
The majority of the next day is spent with, Benji is slightly embarrassed to say, an absurdly large box of pizza and Netflix. Ethan putters around the house like a recently retired person. He does a lot of cleaning and absently moving things from one side of the house to the other. Benji tries not to laugh too much at him.   
  
Fortunately, Ethan doesn't seem keen on repeating the night prior's conversation. He even moves the laptop so Benji can stop staring at it...like he had all through their breakfast. Hunt also makes no noise about Benji moving out. If Benji liked to bet, he'd wager that Ethan was almost happy for the house guest.   
  
Benji watches ten hours straight of Netflix documentaries, grateful that every time something ends, Netflix has another suggestion for him. So helpful. His brain goes numb after the third hour, as he melds with Ethan's couch.   
  
It's sometime during his second shark documentary, the fifth such underwater programming, when notices that he's starting to doze. It's later in the evening, that magical time when his brain starts to think he could nap. The pain in his chest loosens it's grip and Benji drifts off listening to the narrator talk of the underwater predator stalking closer to its prey.  
  
\--  
  
The sound of slamming cabinets wakes Benji. At first, he doesn't realize what he has heard. The television is dark, and not his own tv. He has a moment of where the hell am...then it all comes back. He sits up, looking around to look what had woken him, but he can only hear Ethan in the kitchen down the hall.   
  
Since it's getting late, Benji assumes that the other man is making dinner. Benji appraises the empty pizza box and sighs in annoyance. He supposes he should go be helpful, knowing that Ethan never had to extend the invite in the first place.   
  
As he approaches the corner of the doorway, Benji can hear much clearer Ethan's voice, and he turns the frame, he expects someone else to be in the room. Instead he finds Ethan on the phone, and angry.   
  
“-should have been notified the attempt was made. Not now, not after they've t-“ he’s cut off, and from where Benji is standing the voice on the other end is loud and sounds even angrier than Ethan. He takes a careful step back around the corner, keeping his ear open as he gathers up enough information to know definitely that something bad has happened.  
  
“Those aren’t excuses. We just put the IMF back together so don’t tell me they couldn’t wait another week before putting him back in the thick of it.”  
  
Ethan hums when the other person talks.  
  
“I thought that Hunley wanted him as-“  
  
“No, that isn’t a damn excuse. There are plenty of people that could have done –“  
  
“What do you mean volunteer? It was a suicide mission.”  
  
“No-fuck. I’ll be there in twenty, make sure the jet is ready.”  
  
Ethan lets out a disgusted noise and the pit of Benji’s stomach drops. He feels like he might be shaking a little bit. Why is there sweat on the back of his neck?  
  
“I have to, Jane. If we don’t find him,…I have to tell him. He has the right to know, I don’t care how stupid he’s been.”  
  
Benji pushes out from around the corner. Ethan looks up this time, and for being a super agent he looks genuinely shocked to see Benji. It’s his eyes that say it all. They’re scared, wide in shock.   
  
“Benji,” Ethan says, and hangs up on Jane.   
  
“What happened?” he demands.   
  
“Easy, Benji. It’s going to be okay,” Ethan tries to be soothing, which is laughingly pathetic. The man is built for jumping from planes and shooting terrorists not comforting.   
  
“Ethan. Tell me now,” he states.  
  
“Brandt went on a mission by himself. An hour ago someone cut out Will’s tracker and left it on the bed of his hotel room. They left a note that said if IMF doesn’t release Lane in forty-eight hours, they would kill him.”

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted on FF.net
> 
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> Kudos/Comments/Suggestions go below!! Don't forget to tip your writer! ^_^


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